The Chronicle of a Reformed Feminist Killjoy

Who cares.

This may be bitterness surfacing due to the looming hell that is Valentines day, or that this month should have been my four year anniversary with my ex, or the string of expletives someone I felt close to recently threw at me, but it does not change the fact that no one gives a shit.

Every Saturday I have a cup of tea at my local Starbucks before going into my second shift at the coffee shop I work at. Yes you read that correctly.

Anyway, there is this moldy man who I see every week and he is a definite weirdo.I have tried on numerous times to make small talk with him and every time I am shut down faster than a restaurant run by rats.

Anyway, whenever I get up to pee I usually take my laptop and purse with me to prevent it from being stolen. One day, I unintentionally left my laptop on the table next to this guy and I realized it as I was halfway to the restroom, but I did not go back for it. It is not so much that I trust the guy as I got the vibe he did give enough fucks to try and steal it.

This Saturday a guy comes over to me with his coffee and says, “Hey are you going to be here for a few?” In actuality I was planning on leaving but, he was cute and I have been miserable so I said I would be around. So, he hands me his coffee and asks me if I would mind watching it for about ten minutes. I am amused by the question so I reply, “sure!” and he thanks me and walks out of the coffee shop.

In hindsight I could have spit in the coffee, dropped some GHB or PCP in it, but I didn’t; and it is not because I am a good person. I forwent poisoning my new friend simply because I did not care enough to actually do so. Hurting someone, even a stranger, takes effort which requires a certain amount of caring. If I yell at a friend the anger is a force of caring, born from my love of that person or the passion behind an issue. Even when someone steals, they steal for themselves because they care about their self.

Anyway, the guy comes back after a few minutes and says, “Oh my gosh, thank you so much for watching my coffee!” and then he says, “May I offer you a pen for your troubles?”A pen. The man paid me in writing utensils for watching his beverage, which he left with a complete stranger.But, I am gracious so I accepted one and told him what a uniquely helpful gesture it was.As I was packing up to leave he thanks me, for the eighth time. To which I replied, “Oh, really it was no problem! I mean you haven’t drank out of it yet so I could have roofied you, but I can guarantee no one else did!”He was not amused, (Seriously? The man paid me in pens and I am the weirdo?) but I didn’t really care what he thought so, I laughed at my own joke and walked out of the shop.